


December Bonbons

by Okadiah



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: cross star wars fandom drabble collection, december drabble prompts, it's like a box of chocolates, jedi fest, pretty much a grab-bag prompt response, stocking stuffer prompts, tags will be updated as the month goes on, you never know what you'll get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-11 09:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12932460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okadiah/pseuds/Okadiah
Summary: Drabbles created for the December Drabble Exchange Stocking Stuffer Prompts. Pretty much a collection of tiny stories spanning across the various Star Wars fandoms. Please enjoy!For those of you who are participating in the December Drabble Exchange and for whom I've written a prompt, I hope you like what I've created!1: K-2SO "Heart"2: Hera/Kanan "Wish"3: Eli Vanto "Brothers"4: Baze/Chirrut "Blossom"5: Caleb Dume "Alias"6: Bodhi Rook "Sunshine"7: Darth Maul "Punching Sidious in the Face" With All His Might - Part 18: Thrawn "Solid"9: Poe Dameron "Succulents"10: Kallus "Admiration"11: Thrawn "Admiration"12: Fives "Escape"13: Darth Maul "Throwing Sidious Off a Balcony" With All His Might - Part 214: Baze/Chirrut "Destiny"15: Darth Maul "With All His Might" - Part 316: Depa Billaba "Comfort"17: Kallus "White"18: Caleb Dume and Hera Syndulla "Bodyguard"19: Baze/Chirrut "Pet"20: Depa Billaba and Caleb Dume "Change"21: K-2SO and AP-5 "Meeting"22: Maul and Ezra Bridger "Hugging"23: Thrawn "Unexpected Art"





	1. K-2SO "Heart"

K-2SO directed his photoreceptors from the heart Jyn Erso had drawn on his chest-plate with a dying marker to Jyn, then to Cassian, then back to the heart on his chassis.

“This does not mean I have a heart.”

“Yes, it does,” Cassian said with a smirk. “It’s right there. Jyn gave you a heart.”

“I rather like it,” Jyn said proudly. “And I think it ends the debate?”

“It does not,” K-2SO protested. “It’s not a real heart. The argument was that I have no heart because I’m a droid. This is not an anatomical, biologically functioning organ. It is only an image, and so, not a heart. I do not have a heart.”

“I don’t know, Kay,” Cassian said, his smirk growing wider. “Looks like a perfectly good heart to me.”

K-2SO gave as massive a mechanical sigh as he could muster, fully aware there was no arguing with these irrational organics. He studied the little offending image on his plating again. “I do not like it.”

“I think you like it, Kay,” Jyn proclaimed with a grin. “What do you think?”

“I think he likes it,” Cassian agreed, and K-2SO gave another exaggerated sigh and shook his head at his human, even if maybe he liked the little heart symbol that was not an actual heart just a little.

But only because Cassian thought he should, of course.


	2. Hera Syndulla/Kanan Jarrus "Wish"

Hera gazed across Lothal’s grasslands and into the deep black and sparkling velvet of the night sky. Everything was peaceful and quiet, more so with Kanan standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist as they shared warmth to ward off the chilly midnight air.

Something in the sky flashed, and Hera caught sight of the tail end of a pale streak before it vanished into darkness again.

“What is it?” Kanan asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “Just an asteroid or debris burning in the atmosphere. Falling star.”

“You know,” Kanan said. “In some cultures, they say when you see a falling star it’ll grant you a wish.”

“That’s nonsense,” Hera snorted.

“Maybe.” Kanan shrugged and smiled before he turned his blind eyes skyward. “But make a wish anyway, since you saw it.” He turned his smile toward her. “Make a wish for me.”

Hera’s heart softened at the quiet request, and she pulled his arms tighter, savoring the feel of his strong body wrapped around hers.

“But then I’d have to give up my own wish,” Hera teased. “Those are valuable, you know. Wouldn’t give one up for just anything.”

Kanan chuckled, and it was warm and alive and wonderful.

“Fair enough.” He grinned. “How about I trade you an IOU for it? Whatever you want.”

Hera smirked and shifted in his arms until she was facing him. She gently stroked his cheek.

“Whatever I want, hmm?” She tugged on his beard and pulled him closer, their lips brushing with her smile and response. “Deal.”


	3. Eli Vanto "Brothers"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the person who requested this prompt, I hope you like the direction I took this. It’s kind of a response to some recent shenanigans in the Thrawn fandom.

Thrass stared at Eli Vanto with a look Eli was now familiar enough to realize was discomfort.

Frankly, it almost bordered on horror.

“As I understand it,” Thrass said, his immaculate appearance reflected in the glass of the viewport with all the clean lines and groomed perfection befitting a Syndic. “When you found my brother, he ….”

Thrass’ words trailed off as if he was at a loss as to how to continue. Eli tried not to smirk.

“He looked a bit like a barbarian,” Eli agreed. “Long hair. Torn cutoffs. Filthy. Given what he’d done just to get on our ship, I won’t lie. Thrawn was terrifying.”

“The actions he took to board your ship will surprise no one here,” Thrass said, extending his hand out to Csilla where it hung below. “But please tell me he began taking his appearance seriously again, once he was returned to civilization?”

“His hair was the first thing to go,” Eli said, amused.

“And the rags?”

It was difficult not to snort at the small edge of desperation which lined Thrass’ question.

“It was my job to get rid of them,” Eli said.

A small sigh of relief slipped from Thrass before he turned and faced Eli, chin lifted with glowing eyes as red as Thrawn’s.

“You’ve done a great service to the Chiss,” Thrass said. “And I thank you for aiding my brother in such a … rough time of his life.”

The urge to laugh was almost more than Eli could bear. Chiss. He’d met some strange aliens in his time, but Eli was just about certain this race of nonhumans took the cake.

Or, maybe it was just this pair of brothers?

“No problem,” Eli said, swallowing his laughter. “Happy to do it.”


	4. Baze Malbus/Chirrut Imwe "Blossom"

The small Togruta girl smiled up at Chirrut as he wrapped her hands around the tiny blossom the Guardian had placed there for her. She’d been gazing at it for days where it had bloomed at the top of the lone tree in the tiny courtyard. Now it was finally in her hands.

“Thank you, Master Îmwe!”

Chirrut smiled kindly at her, then let her go on her way with a small wave. He breathed slowly and held his staff between his hands before directing a calm smile toward Baze, who hid in the shadows around the corner.

“You should have told her it was you who retrieved the flower for her.”

Baze grunted and stepped next to Chirrut, eyeing the tall tree he’d almost broken his back over trying to get the stupid flower.

“I’m a big, scary assassin,” Baze said. “You’re Master Îmwe, last Guardian of the Whills. The flower should come from you.”

Chirrut snickered. “I am not the last.”

Baze shot him a baleful look. “You are.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”

“If that little girl knew the truth, she would agree with me.”

Baze grunted again and tried not to feel as if Chirrut had won the argument, even as the blind monk grinned with satisfaction.


	5. Caleb Dume "Alias"

Caleb Dume pressed his palm against his eyes as he tried to shift into a better position within the cramped cockpit of the _Escape._ He dug his fingers into his brow to ward off the mounting headache festering there as he attempted to wrangle his problem _again_.

Here he was, Caleb Dume. Ex-Jedi Padawan. Gifted battle tactician. A Kalleran smuggler’s ex-best friend and pain in the ass. Survivalist. With all those titles under his belt, he should be prepared to handle anything. Should be able to _do_ just about anything he needed to. Because he was resourceful. Adaptable. Creative.

Why the kriff was coming up with an alias so damned hard?

He’d been playing with names ever since leaving Kasmir behind. He’d tried anagrams and hated every result he’d come up with. He’d thought of names he’d liked and tried to mash them together, but found he hated them too.

Caleb needed a new name for his new life, but what? He wanted something he’d like and _want_ to use. Something interesting and a little catchy. Something absolutely _not_ Caleb Dume.

But he was drawing the biggest blank, and it frustrated him.

“Bet Kasmir would be laughing at me right about now,” Caleb muttered to himself as he dropped his hand and stared at the glow of hyperspace. “I should just steal _his_ name. Then anytime I got into trouble, they’d say ‘I’m looking for Janus Kasmir’ and find him, and _he’d_ take the blame.”

Caleb’s wry grin faltered and fell. He didn’t actually want to do that. Kasmir had been his only friend, and Caleb had left _for_ Kasmir’s protection. Not to turn around and send more danger his way.

But now that he’d voiced the idea Caleb couldn’t get it out of his head and, like a catalyst, his mind began shifting. Moving elements and crafting parts. Slowly a name began shaping itself in his mind. An interesting one. A catchy one.

“Kanan Jarrus,” Caleb said into the cockpit of the _Escape_ as he reclined back, tension melting away. He even liked the way it sounded in the air and felt on his tongue. Still, he tested it, just to make sure it wasn’t too similar. “Janus Kasmir.”

Caleb snorted. Nope. His new name was perfect. Original. Not similar at all to the Kalleran’s.

But there was no denying that _maybe_ Kasmir’s name had been an inspiration. And _maybe_ the similar cadence and consonance of the names _might_ be familiar. That his new name _might_ remind him of the one friend he’d saved, and would forever serve as a reminder of that. Maybe.

Just maybe.


	6. Bodhi Rook "Sunshine"

Bodhi Rook ran through the halls of Eadu’s kyber refinery as quickly as he dared. Today was the day, and he — like everyone else — had waited eagerly for it for months. It was such a rare occasion. Some years it never happened at all.

And today of all days, he might’ve botched his chance, all because he’d slept late. Everyone knew the window was short. One could blink, and it would be over.

Bodhi prayed it would not be over.

“Excuse me!” he said, swerving around stormtroopers and accidentally clipping a scientist on the shoulder who gave him a vile look. “Sorry!”

The blast doors to the landing platform were open. Just beyond he saw a small crowd taking in this rare occurrence, and Bodhi moved faster. If they were still out there, he had a chance.

Sprinting the rest of the way, he was outside in a matter of seconds before he slowed to a stop. He turned his face skyward and awe swept through him.

Brilliant sunlight shined through the small break in the clouds, casting the glistening cliffs and ravines around them into clear focus. Gentle warmth settled over Bodhi’s face and he sighed at the sensation. It was true he, more than many here, saw sunlight more often given his profession as a cargo pilot.

But this was sunlight on Eadu. A storm planet. This sunshine was more stunning than any he’d ever seen before.

“Ah, Bodhi. You made it in time.” Galen gave him a subdued smile and stared up at the sky as they soaked in the dewy warmth together. “It’s quite something, isn’t it?”

Storm clouds ringed the patch of sunshine as if waiting for their chance to hide it away again, but for now it was here, and it was beautiful. It reminded him of all the good things in life. It reminded Bodhi of hope.

“Yes,” Bodhi agreed. “Yes, it is.”


	7. Darth Maul "Punching Sidious in the Face" With All His Might - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of a three-part drabble mini-series about Maul with all his might.

Maul was bleeding. A quarter of his horns smoked from where Sidious had sliced through them with one of his blades, and one of his mechanical legs threatened to give out with every step he took. Pain coursed through his body. Savage lingered at the sidelines waiting for an opening which would never come while clutching at the wound he Sith Lord had dealt him. Unhelpful. Useless.

But none of that mattered while Sidious stood before him with a look of utter contempt, one which morphed into a crumpled grimace of pain as Maul clenched a fist and plowed it with all his might into his former master’s face. Beneath Maul’s knuckles, he felt the old Sith’s delicate bones shatter. Blood flowed from his nose, and Maul was pleased to see cold yellow eyes flicker with disorientation.

Lord Sidious of the Sith staggered, and Maul’s fist buzzed with euphoria at having made it happen.


	8. Thrawn "Solid"

Solid was the first word that came to Thrawn’s mind as he studied the monstrosity being built within this lonely corner of space, off in the distance before him. Powerful was the next word. Terrifying a close third.

His research all these years had finally yielded an answer. It had led him to this. Project Stardust.

The Death Star. The Empire’s ultimate weapon. A planet destroyer.

All Thrawn could think of was as he stared at the structure was what if the Empire took it to the Unknown Regions? What if the Emperor one day found Cilla? What if this _thing_ was turned on his home and everyone he’d once known and cared for — everything he’d worked so hard for — and it would all be blown into nothing?

In the wake of those thoughts, there was only one reasonable answer, and it was as solid as the weapon before him. None of that could be allowed to happen.

But how was one supposed to stop something this massive? This powerful?

As Thrawn turned and left, he pondered that question the entirety of his journey back to the safety of the _Chimaera._

How indeed?


	9. Poe Dameron - Succulents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up Vernabratian, but the golden sedum is a type of succulent – the type I currently own and have not yet killed. It’s wonderful. Succulents are wonderful.

Poe smiled at General Organa and the quizzical look she gave him and the small pot cradled in his hand. She arched an eyebrow and his smile widened.

“It’s a Vernabratian golden sedum,” Poe explained. “A succulent.”

“You keep a houseplant?” the general asked, bemused. “Must be difficult to take care of, given our … active lifestyle.”

“Not particularly,” Poe said as he studied the small plant with it’s stiff, waxy leaves and gentle red tips. “Succulents are pretty easy to take care of. Just a little water. Some sunlight. They’re hardy, and they come in all sorts of shapes and varieties.” He eyed the little plant fondly. “It reminds me of the Resistance, actually. Made up of all sorts of shapes and varieties. Hardy people.”

“So now we’re your plant,” she said, eyes sparkling with amusement. “A resistance of succulents.”

“Maybe,” Poe agreed with a grin. “I mean, we haven’t died off yet, and I still haven’t killed this plant. Must mean something.”

“Just don’t ask me to plant-sit while you’re away on mission,” General Organa said.

Poe brightened. “But, General. Who else could I possibly trust more to take care of it than you?”


	10. Kallus "Admiration"

Kallus studied the holorecordings of the Battle of Atollon with a stoic gaze, watching as Phoenix Squadron attacked, Thrawn counterattacked, and the entire plan crumbled before the Grand Admiral’s might.

“What’re you doing?” Bridger asked as he drew up beside him, pausing long enough to catch a glimpse of Commander Sato’s ship colliding with Konstantine’s _Interdictor_ , creating the hole Bridger had used to escape and turn the tides of the battle. Blue eyes sidled his way. “You should let it go, Kallus. It’s in the past.”

“Of course it’s in the past,” Kallus muttered as he watched Phoenix Squadron retreat. “That doesn’t mean we can’t learn something from it.”

“It’s Thrawn being Thrawn,” Bridger said blandly. “What’s there to learn?”

“A great deal,” Kallus replied. “He may have beaten us, but that doesn’t mean his tactics weren’t flawless and sound. Useful. As I said, there’s a great deal to learn. He is brilliant, after all.”

The last of Phoenix Squadron’s ships had descended to Atollon, and Kallus wondered what Thrawn had been thinking at that precise moment. If anyone should have known, it was Kallus. But pain and the uncertainty of his own demise were acceptable excuses for his less than satisfactory observations.

Bridger frowned. “Careful, Kallus. It almost sounds like you admire him.”

A sharp smirk crossed Kallus’ lips. “Don’t get me wrong. I hate him and everything he’s done. But I can hate him, and also respect and admire his mind and his work.”

“Even when he does that?”

They watched as volleys of laser fire flooded the holo from Atollon’s perspective. The bombardment was horrifying. Kallus couldn’t imagine what it had to have been like for the rebels on planet. It was a testament to their courage and resolve.

But the rebels — and even _he_ — wouldn’t have found the depths of their courage and resolve without the power of Thrawn against them. And there was something to be said about that too.

“Yes, Bridger,” Kallus said definitively, chin raised. “Even when he does that.”


	11. Thrawn "Admiration"

“That looks like the Lasat’s toy.”

“In fact, Governor Pryce,” Thrawn said as he studied the bo-rifle settled carefully within its display amongst all the rest of his collection and research concerning the Lothal Rebels. “It once belonged to the former Agent Kallus.”

Pryce stared at it, her disdain read clearly on her face.

“Oh. Of course.” She crossed her arms. “Why keep it? It’s nothing but a weapon. I hardly see what it could tell you now.”

“It tells me everything,” Thrawn replied simply as he studied the object. Connections flowed ephemeral from his mind out across the rest of the collection, drawing an image — a conclusion — only he understood.

Now that he was studying it directly, it appeared so obvious Kallus would defect. Inevitable even. This was a warrior’s weapon, an _honorable_ warrior’s weapon. It was easy to believe it was nothing more than a trophy. Spoils. But why put so much effort and care into _this_ weapon, when there were many others in the Empire’s possession which were stronger. More powerful.

The fact Kallus had kept this, cared for it despite his initial loyalty toward the Empire was impressive. Admirable, even, and telling.

If pointless and foolhardy.


	12. Fives "Escape"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIVES DESERVED BETTER. Just really needed to get that out of my system. Enjoy!

Arc Trooper Fives’ legs pumped, his lungs heaved, and adrenaline raced through his body as only one thought fixed itself in his mind. Escape.

Well, maybe two, because there was no denying that _maybe_ this had been a very bad idea.

“Ready?” Fives said, lifting his blaster.

“Ready,” Tup said just a step behind, and Fives shot the window in front of them. It cracked and shattered, and before he could think about the stupid thing they were about to do to get away from the stupid thing they’d just done, both he and Tup were airborne with the ground racing up to meet them.

Fives grunted as he bent his knees and rolled, Tup doing the same as they landed. Though the urge to take a second to breathe bared down on him, Fives forced himself into a run, dragging Tup up by the arm with him.

“Take cover!” Tup yelled, throwing himself at Fives and into safety behind a wall. An instant later, the compound they’d just escaped from erupted into a blaze of light. Clankers screamed and were destroyed, the air burned with heat, and through it all the adrenaline in Fives’ blood roared.

When silence curled through the air like the smoke rising out of the flames, elation filled Fives’ chest as he shoved himself up and looked at Tup.

“Told you it’d work, brother.”

“You were as sure as I was that it wouldn’t work,” Tup countered.

“Never doubted myself,” Fives’ lied, his voice reflecting the grin he hid under his helmet before he nodded toward their next target. “Come on. The mission’s not done yet.”


	13. Darth Maul "Throwing Sidious Off a Balcony" With All His Might - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, part two. One more to go.

Maul took advantage of his opening without hesitation, and despite the weakness of his broken mechanical leg, the agony of his body, the blood weeping from his wounds, the dark side of the Force was with him. Sidious was old. Sidious was weak.

And it was time for Maul to take his rightful place as the true Lord of the Sith.

Faint awareness seemed to return to Sidious as he worked out of the daze Maul had left him in, but it was far too late. With a roar, Maul ran his lightsaber through the old Sith’s body while at the same time lifting the deceptively solid elderly man with straining, screaming muscles before throwing him with all his might off the balcony to the tiled ground below. While Sidious’ body was still in the air, Maul followed through with a Force shove, powering through what weak defenses the old Sith had futilely thought to save himself with.

The sound of the stone tiles below cracking, of Sidious’ body breaking, of his final gasps of agony as Maul used the Force to spear his former master’s body with the Sith’s own lightsabers, Maul’s lightsaber, Savage’s pike, and the darksaber _with all his might_ filled the air.

And then it, along with what vile life had remained in the former Sith Lord faded away to nothing.


	14. Baze Malbus/Chirrut Imwe "Destiny"

“I don’t see,” Baze said as he frowned at Chirrut. “How this proves destiny exists.”

The smaller Guardian clutched Baze’s larger hand in his, a smile brighter than the Jedha sun above crossing his face and somehow warming the chilly air around them. Although Baze still didn’t understand Chirrut’s angle, he returned the gesture and held him back.

“This is how I know it is destiny,” Chirrut said, lifting their clasped hands as if it explained everything. “Why else would I be holding your hand?”

“Because you reached for it,” Baze replied. What was Chirrut getting at? He had reached for his hand and taken it. That was why they were now holding hands in the middle of this busy street, bumping shoulders with smugglers, thugs, and other religious acolytes.

“No,” Chirrut said as he led them through the crowd, the tip of his staff paving the way and a pleasant look on his face. “It’s because you let me take it.” He turned his pale, blind eyes to Baze and grinned. “And because you’re letting me keep it.”

Baze hmphed in response, but followed Chirrut into the throng around them, hand still held carefully in his own. This still wasn’t proof of destiny. Far from it.

But perhaps that didn’t matter.


	15. Darth Maul "With All His Might" - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of Maul with all his might. Enjoy!

Maul stood over the dead body of Sidious, bleeding, broken, gasping for air after the hardest fight of his life, and waited for the old Sith to open his eyes again. To somehow claw his way back to life through nothing but sheer and unrelenting hate. To return, so Maul could destroy him over and over and over until there was nothing of his former master left but a bloody smear on the ground.

“You’ve done it, brother,” Savage said as he approached, grasping his injured arm before using the Force to summon his pike back to his hand. “You’ve defeated him.”

“Yes,” Maul breathed with the faintest touch of disbelief, still waiting as the realization that _he had succeeded_ finally settled itself into reality. Settled itself into the Force where it clung to him like a prize, dark and decadent and powerful. “Yes, I have.”

Before him lay the corpse of the man who’d raised him, trained him, forgotten and betrayed him.

And here Maul stood above it, the victor. The superior. The winner.

The survivor.

With the Force, Maul summoned his lightsaber to his palm and activated it with a violent snap-hiss, the crimson deep and burning and his to command. Then Maul bared his teeth in a furious, victorious grin, and lifted his blade.

“ _Yes. I. Have._ ”

And Maul, with all his might, swung his lightsaber down in a perfect stroke and Sidious’ head rolled before it settled in the shadows to rot, as all weak and useless things should.


	16. Depa Billaba "Comfort"

Jedi Master Depa Billaba enjoyed the simple, monastic life of the Jedi. She appreciated her role as protector, negotiator, and guardian, and valued the ease of life when ones’ focus was less on the material world and more on the spiritual. On inner-peace. On the Force and its balance.

That did not mean she didn’t appreciate simple comforts.

The tea in her cup was warm and fragrant, and after the long mission she’d just returned from, this simple pleasure taken in her favorite corner of the Temple gardens was the greatest physical comfort. It was one of the few things she looked forward to, and which never ceased to relax her.

That, and the soft sound which caught her attention as Caleb Dume appeared around the corner, eyes bright. She smiled.

“I was wondering where you were, Caleb. It’s never long before you find me.” Depa reached for the second cup she’d brought, just for him. “Now, tell me what new questions you’ve thought up this time.”


	17. Kallus "White"

Kallus stared out across the icy white, and shivered.

“Still not a fan of the cold?” Zeb asked as he stood guard next to him, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. A thin layer of snow was gathering on the Lasat’s fur, turning him white too. It already coated Kallus’ shoulders.

“No,” Kallus grumbled as he tugged his coat tighter. “I hate the cold. But the snow’s not so bad.”

“I’d think after Bahryn, you’d have had enough of the stuff. I know I did.”

Kallus continued to gaze out at the snow blanketing the world as it cut through the silence and attempted to fool the world by painting everything pure and white and new.

Even him.

“It has its graces,” Kallus said. “When it’s not trying to freeze us to death, of course.”

Zeb sneezed in response, and Kallus smirked. Zeb glowered.

“Yeah. Sure.”


	18. Caleb Dume and Hera Syndulla "Bodyguard"

“Stand back,” Caleb Dume said seriously and with all the gravity of the Jedi Order.

“Make way,” Hera Syndulla said with fanfare and a grin. “For the mighty Lord Chopper!”

The beaten C1 astromech Hera had spent ages repairing burst into the room, lively and loud as its clamps clacked in the air. Chopper whooped and turned in quick circles, almost knocking over a scowling Caleb in his excitement.

Both Cham and Depa eyed the kids.

“So, you fixed it,” Cham said, slightly confused. Depa motioned the droid over.

“Lord Chopper, is it?” The Jedi Master touched the droid’s orange top. “And I suppose that makes the two of you his bodyguards?”

Hera nodded proudly, her small lekku bobbing while Caleb flushed slightly but nodded too.

“Well then,” Depa said. “Perhaps Lord Chopper might honor me by checking my ship’s hyperdrive?”

Chopper whooped again, loud and pleased by the idea, and Hera tugged Caleb’s arm.

“Come on, let’s go!”

And before her Padawan could say anything, Caleb was swept away. Cham shook his head but smiled, and as he and Depa got back to their meeting, Depa couldn’t put away her small, amused smile either.


	19. Baze Malbus/Chirrut Imwe "Pet"

“Perhaps we could keep him?”

“I don’t think we can keep him.”

Chirrut grinned. “I like him. He would be incredibly helpful, and we’ve never had one before.”

“Yes, because they’re a pain to take care of,” Baze said. “You have to maintain it, charge it, fix any blasted damage — and they always get damaged. I do not want one, Chirrut.”

“But Baze,” Chirrut argued. “You have to admit he’s been very helpful. Imagine how helpful he could be if he stayed with us permanently.”

“You know,” K-2SO said. “I’m right here.”

“Do you think Captain Andor would mind?” Chirrut asked K-2SO. “You might like it better with us.”

“He would mind,” Baze grunted, crossing his arms. “Besides. Where would you keep a droid? We don’t have the space.”

Chirrut flapped a hand. “We’d make space, of course. Now, what do you think?”

K-2SO stared at both Jedhan’s, the soft click of his photoreceptors shifting between them the only sound in the air. Then he sighed.

“This is the last time I let Cassian loan me out.”


	20. Depa Billaba and Caleb Dume "Change"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depa’s the best. This is kinda similar to a scene in the first Kanan comic, but I hope you’ll like it anyway!

Caleb Dume sat on the edge of the mesa and stared at the starry sky. After three days straight of fighting droids, the peace he had to himself now was almost unnerving. Like he shouldn’t be quiet and stationary. Like he should still be out there on the battlefield with the clones, fighting alongside his master with his lightsaber blazing, even though he knew that reality would return soon enough.

“You are conflicted, Padawan.”

A gentle hand slid along Caleb’s shoulders, and he looked up at Master Billaba and sighed before looking down. He was always glad his master understood him so well, but sometimes Caleb was sure she could read his mind.

She settled beside him and the quiet grew as she waited. Finally, Caleb found his words.

“I just … sometimes it’s hard to believe that it wasn’t that long ago I was a youngling in the Temple. Everything’s changed.” Caleb looked down at his hands, callused and tough and strong. “I’ve changed.”

“Do you regret it?”

Caleb shook his head, but he also hesitated.

“Master, is that a bad thing?”

“Change is never a good or a bad thing,” Master Billaba said as her gaze lingered on the sky before them. “It simply is. But I believe that questioning your feelings as you are concerning these changes is a good thing, Padawan. You’re aware of your emotions and thoughts.”

“And I’m going to change more,” he said quietly before meeting his master’s gaze. “What if I don’t like the changes?”

She gave him a gentle smile. “There will always be moments in our lives where we don’t like the change. But what’s important is that we stay true to who we are, and do the best we can despite the change.”

Another thought struck Caleb. “But how do I know who I am? And how do I stay true to me if I’m not sure who that is?”

Master Billaba’s smile broadened with approval. “How indeed? That’s a question you will have to answer for yourself, Padawan.” Her hand rested on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “But I believe you will find the answer to that question in time.”


	21. K-2SO and AP-5 "Meeting"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a ficlet I’ve had bumping around in my head for a while now. What would happen if the Sass-bot and the Snark-bot met? Poor Kallus is about to find out. Enjoy!

K-2SO considered AP-5, and AP-5 considered K-2SO with the same contemplative, intense silence.

Kallus and Cassian stood next to them. If he’d known Cassian was bringing his droid, he wouldn’t have brought AP-5. As it was, Kallus’ back stiffened as he waited for what he _knew_ was coming.

K-2SO slowly leaned forward, and AP-5 straightened as tall as he could. This was it. They were in for the biggest snark war which had ever occurred on Yavin IV. At least Kallus had the oblivious Cassian next to him, ready for sacrifice once the word-slinging began.

It was the taller K-2SO who broke the stalemate.

“I’m Kay-Tuesso,” K-2SO said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And _I_ am Aypee-Five,” AP-5 replied as he touched his chest-plate with a metal hand. “Likewise. I’ve heard a great deal about you from the other droids.”

“I could say the same,” K-2SO replied casually.

The droids regarded each other again, and Kallus held his breath. Any time now. It was coming. He could _feel_ it.

AP-5 broke the silence this time.

“I imagine you and I will get along quite well. Better than the old C1 unit I’m usually harassed by. Here.” AP-5 handed K-2SO the datapad he’d brought for the meeting. “I’d like your opinion on the logs listed on top.”

“Oh, these won’t do,” K-2SO said with a mechanical sigh and a shake of his head as he brought up the next log. “The chances of failure are very high.”

AP-5 gave a mechanical sigh of his own. One of relief. “Finally. Someone who sees the problem.”

Kallus went pale as the droids began engaging in enthusiastic discourse. Cassian arched a brow.

“Kallus? Is something wrong?”

“I expected something horrible. For a war to emerge if those two ever met.” Kallus swallowed. The droids were working _together_ , and he could only watch in dismay as he thought of the headache both would soon bring down upon the base. “Somehow this is so much worse.”


	22. Maul and Ezra Bridger "Hugging"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first saw this prompt, it was Maul, hugging, and anyone. So I thought about it and figured the only situation where hugging and Maul might occur would likely be if it was Old Man Maul and the only kid ballsy enough to try and get away with it. I hope you enjoy!

Maul scowled and gripped the handle of his lightsaber-walking stick, but waited as patiently as possible for the ordeal to end. He thought it would have stopped _the moment_ it started, but it seemed Ezra Bridger had other ideas.

“Are you done yet, Apprentice?”

“Nope.”

Maul sighed heavily but continued to endure.

“And _why_ must you do this?”

Ezra shrugged a shoulder and squeezed a little tighter, the loop of the boy’s arms around Maul’s torso like a warm, irritating bind. A lifetime spent anticipating betrayal ensured Maul was ready in case Ezra attempted something insidious, but he sensed no malintent in the boy’s Force aura. The opposite, in fact, disturbing as it was. At some point, he would weed out that persistent light Ezra still possessed.

But perhaps not quite yet.

“You just looked like you could use a hug, Master,” the boy said. “Not going to lie, though. Kinda surprised I’m not dead.”

Maul’s scowl deepened as he shoved the brat off and turned away, ignoring the way his flesh seemed to retain an imprint of Ezra’s embrace.

“Do it again, Apprentice, and you will lose your arms.”

Ezra grinned as if he was already planning a second attempt. “Of course, Master.”


	23. Thrawn "Unexpected Art"

Thrawn studied the painting on the wall and could not, for the briefest instant, remember where he was or what he was doing. The sensation faded as quickly as it had arrived, but even now that he recalled himself and the gala around him once again, his eyes remained locked on the art. He traced its clean lines and elegant curves. There was no space wasted. Every color was deeply considered and design perfectly placed.

It took his breath away.

“Ah. I thought you might like this one,” Colonel Yularen said as he stepped next to Thrawn to study the painting as well. “It’s subtle, but it stands out. A bit like you.”

“Indeed,” Thrawn said, letting his eyes catch on every detail, soaking the painting in like a man returning home after a long time away. “Where did the curator find such a piece? Do they know where it came from?”

“I have no idea,” Yularen admitted. “Probably some backwater world out in the reaches of Wild Space. It’s compelling though, I will admit. But if this caught your eye, I must show you the Faimoriane centerpiece in the next room.”

“I will be there in a moment, Colonel,” Thrawn said as he continued to gaze at the painting, reluctant to leave. “I’m not quite done with this one.”

“Suit yourself.”

Yularen’s voice faded into the general static of the gala around him, but within Thrawn’s mind, only silence existed as he stared at the only Chiss touch he’d seen in the years of his exile. How this painting, small and simple as it was, came to be here of all places, Thrawn had no idea.

But it was here. And he silently appreciated it more than any other being here ever would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed all these December drabbles! If you participated in the Jedi Fest December Drabble Exchange and I completed one of your prompts, I hope you liked them!


End file.
